


The Unavoidable Question of Style

by hesterbyrde



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Job, Clothing, Clothing Kink, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Post Season 3, Sex, Suit Kink, Suit Porn, Suits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 08:37:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5999169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesterbyrde/pseuds/hesterbyrde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“A morning coat?” Will asked, laughing incredulously. “What the fuck is a morning coat?”</p><p>“The fashion of morning dress was favored by nobility in the early 20th century as a mode of dress that was less formal, but still maintained a certain modicum of dignity. The morning coat was originally meant to be worn while on one’s morning ride, but eventually came to be the norm for daytime social functions. Particularly weddings. Knize has been making them for many years, coming to fame as the tailors of the Hapsburg family in the 1800s.”</p><p>Will’s brow furrowed as he tried to imagine how one came to fame for something like a coat, but he didn’t ask further. “You and your clothes.” he said instead with a shake of his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unavoidable Question of Style

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentines Day, y'all!
> 
> So a little while back, larissabernstein commented on my fic "Whither Must I Wander" with the idea that Hannibal should go to a famous atelier in Vienna called Knize and purchase one of their suits and a bottle of their famed cologne. While I didn't have room in the actual fic for a side trip of that nature, that's what one-shots are for! So here we go! A little suit porn to start off our Valentines Day!
> 
> Much of my research about Knize was done on their website (from which I took the title of the fic) and taken from articles written in The Gentleman's Gazette. I also consulted Wikipedia and its references for a little history on the practice of morning dress and the fashion of wearing a morning coat.
> 
> Many thanks to LawlessDragon for beta reading this fic. I cranked it out pretty fast for me, so he was a tremendous help. Much love!
> 
> This does take place post Season 3 finale, though I don't think there's any major spoilers other than... y'know they survive. But I'm pretty sure we've all worked that one out by now. It does sort of take place in my fic "Whither Must I Wander," but you don't need to read it to be able to read this. It sort of stands on its own... at least I hope.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading! Kudos and comments feed my soul so please don't hesitate to send feedback. Sometimes it turns into more fics! Just ask larissabernstein!
> 
> Much love!

It was summer. 

For Will, summer had never been the respite it seemed to be for others. No vacation plans. No days spent relaxing. He’d spent enough of his formative years in a cabin on Lake Erie to know that the winters were cold, and colder still if you didn’t use the time afforded in the summer to prepare. 

Now, as the exuberant Austrian spring bowed to the golden throne of summer, Will felt at rest. Were he a religiously inclined man, he would think heaven was akin to this. Days spent chasing whatever fancy took him. Sometimes it was tying fishing flies for hours, heedless of the march of sunbeams between the trees. Other times he would explore the grounds around the chalet, discovering new fishing spots or finding copses of elderberries in the woods. 

More often than not, he found himself drawn to Hannibal, who was as relieved as he at the warming weather. They spent the lengthening days together, more often than not. Hiking the woods, planting a garden, or hiding indoors from the odd summer shower and sharing a book and more than their share of wine.

But this day was perfect for a leisurely drive through the Austrian countryside. The sun was shining bright in the brilliant blue sky. The only clouds to be seen were the ones that clung stubbornly to their morning perches on the crags of the Alps. Will rarely had occasion to see the sights of the countryside in the daytime, as he and Hannibal almost never ventured off of the grounds of their chateau before evening. There was something thrilling about the balmy air that buffeted his face as they sped towards their destination: the Staatsoper in Vienna for a performance of Mozart’s "Abduction from the Seraglio."

“I thought you hated matinees.” Will remarked over the roar of the Porsche’s engine.

“I generally dislike them, yes.” Hannibal replied. “I find that both the audience and performers have far less energy. And often matinees are when cast substitutions are made, which can lead to uncertain performances.” He smiled at Will as he spoke, and found himself enraptured by the sight of him as he listened intently, the mottled sunlight catching in his eyes. They were just a hue darker than the summer sky, shaded by his wind tousled hair which had grown long over the months. It curled over his starched collar in the most sweet and endearing way. Hannibal almost had to physically shake himself in order to return his attention to the road.

“So… why are we going to a matinee?” Will asked, twisting in his seat to more fully face the driver’s side. “And moreover, why did we leave so early? It’s not even noon yet. Doesn’t the show start at three?”

“You are correct.” he answered, inclining his head. “I wanted to make a stop first at a tailor in town.”

“A tailor? But Madame Laurent was just at the chateau a few days ago with the second half of our wardrobe.” Will pointedly fussed with the lapels of his pale grey suit jacket.

“Yes, but I seek something that is specific to this clothier.” Hannibal explained. “They are famous for their morning coats, which are not an easy article of clothing to come by. I had one back in Baltimore and enjoyed finding every occasion to wear it.”

“A morning coat?” Will asked, laughing incredulously. Hannibal drank in the sound, not caring in the slightest that it was at his expense. “What the fuck is a morning coat?”

“The fashion of morning dress was favored by nobility in the early 20th century as a mode of dress that was less formal, but still maintained a certain modicum of dignity.” Hannibal explained, clearly enjoying the opportunity to expound on his mental library of curious knowledge. “The morning coat was originally meant to be worn while on one’s morning ride, but eventually came to be the norm for daytime social functions. Particularly weddings. Knize has been making them for many years, coming to fame as the tailors of the Hapsburg family in the 1800s.”

Will’s brow furrowed as he tried to imagine how one came to fame for something like a coat, but he didn’t ask further. “You and your clothes.” he said instead with a shake of his head.

The corner of Hannibal’s mouth pulled into a small smile. “You certainly never seem to mind my proclivities for fashion once you’ve seen yourself in the mirror. You’re quite striking in the suits you let me choose for you.”

“It still feels like a costume sometimes.” he replied softly as he smoothed his hands down the legs of his trousers, marveling at how soft the wool was against his rough hands. It still didn’t feel like something that should belong to him, let alone be hugging every inch of his body.

“It is.” Hannibal agreed, drawing a surprised look from Will. “You chafe at most formal dress wear because you don’t feel it reflects your true self.”

Will nodded in grudging agreement. “Can’t say I’ve ever felt myself in anything other than fly fishing waders. At least until I let you and Madame Laurent have a go.” He fidgeted half consciously with the cuff link on one sleeve. “It’s just hard to get used to sometimes.”

“I’m glad my decisions make you comfortable in your own skin.” Hannibal replied with a genuine smile. “You do look very handsome.”

Will smiled at that. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever complimented my appearance.”

Hannibal lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “I didn’t think you one to put much stock in aesthetics. Certainly not your own, so I refrained from commenting.”

“You shouldn’t.” Will said, reaching over to take his hand even as he turned away to hide the flush in his cheeks.

***  
From the outside, Knize was an unassuming little shop, sandwiched awkwardly between the other, more modern vendors on the street. Its dimly lit, and slightly dusty displays held a few busts dressed in simple, but clearly well-made suits of the fashion that seemed to never age. It looked like a place out of time, as if the front door was a portal to another era. 

And, after a fashion, this observation proved to be correct. The interior of Knize didn’t look anything like a store at all. More like a museum, with all its offerings ensconced in meticulously lighted display cases of dark wood and polished glass. But instead of bits of ancient pottery or fine art, it was cufflinks and fabric selections, and mannequins showing off their variety of cuts for suits. None of it was terribly ostentatious. With the exception of a colorful pocket square here, or a frothy cravat there, their collection leaned towards the incredibly conservative and classic.

The instant their feet touched the plush, forest-green carpet, Will and Hannibal were descended upon by a German speaking attendant. Will didn’t even try to follow the conversation, but it seemed obvious after the initial introductions that Hannibal was expected. With a curt nod and an even more welcoming smile, the attendant lead them upstairs to yet another gallery even more curiously appointed than the entryway downstairs.

The purpose of this room was to show off what was apparently the fabled morning coat. Swatches of fabric lay fanned on the counter alongside a generous decanter of wine. But the centerpiece of the room was the most strange thing about it. 

An English riding saddle stood to one side perched atop a stool, the leather polished from years of use. It wasn’t until Will looked around, spying pictures of noblemen astride magnificent stallions that he remembered that this morning coat was originally intended to be a riding jacket. He just hadn’t expected there to be an actual saddle. His mind flashed to light with images of Hannibal astride the saddle… then astride him wearing the long swishing coat...

The attendant poured them both a glass of wine before disappearing to the back to fetch the tailor. Will took his glass with more gratitude than he meant to show.

“I had previously contacted the tailors here with my measurements. I hope to be able to take the coat home after the opera this afternoon.” Hannibal explained. If he knew the nature of the thoughts occupying Will’s mind, he didn’t let on.

“Do I even want to know how much a suit here runs?” Will asked, taking a healthy swallow of wine, finding himself infinitely grateful that it was cool.

“Around six thousand euros.” Hannibal replied as though it were a pittance.

Will just shook his head. He’d never owned a car that cost him more than four thousand dollars.

“What you’re wearing is worth more.” Hannibal whispered, smiling wolfishly at him over the rim of his wineglass.

Will fought not to tug at the collar. He was getting better about being fidgety with his clothes when he was uncomfortable. 

“And it’s worth every penny to me.” Hannibal told him, his voice more gentle.

“To see me so uncomfortable? All bedecked in someone else’s artwork?”

Hannibal frowned deeply. “The suit is not the work of art. You are.”

It took Will a moment to process what he had said, looking as if Hannibal had struck him between the eyes with the words rather than spoken them aloud. And then he promptly blushed to the roots of his hair.

Hannibal smiled at his untamed surprised and dumb bewilderment, and paced towards him, swirling his wine around in the glass. “Why do you think I chose this ensemble as I did?” He gestured to Will’s suit. “All in soft shades of gray and crisp white. Your hair dark. Your cheeks pale unless I intentionally fluster you like I’m doing now. Hanging on a rack like these,” He opened an arm to the room to the figures draped in Knize’s latest offerings, “The suit you’re wearing would be wholly uninteresting.”

Will licked his lips, trying to find words. “But on me? What’s special about the way it looks on me?”

“Because it makes your eyes a fathomless blue.” Hannibal replied simply, curling one hand along Will’s stubbled jaw and skating his thumb tenderly over his cheekbone. “Utterly arresting in every way. And it stands out even more so in the landscape of your very neutral but smartly cut suit. Nothing to distract. Everything to accentuate.”

Will’s cheeks burned, but he kept himself from cowing completely under Hannibal’s adoration. “Thank you,” he might have mumbled.

Hannibal closed the distance between them, curling one finger under his stubbled chin and retrieving a kiss from his upturned lips. Will smiled against his capacious mouth and began to lean into Hannibal’s touch, but the sound of the tailor and his assistant returning arrested him. Hannibal turned smartly to meet them, leaving Will feeling a little light-headed and adrift.

He wandered aimlessly for a moment as Hannibal greeted the tailor, not wanting to be underfoot in a situation in which he knew he would be of next to no help. The mirror to Will’s left drew his eye, and what reported to be his own reflection stared back at him. He hardly knew himself by sight anymore, not that he’d ever made a habit of using mirrors more than was necessary before crossing the Atlantic. His reflection was a stranger now more than ever, but it wasn’t as disquieting as it should have been. The man staring back at him seemed happier. He stood straighter, and had creases around his mouth and his eyes where he smiled all the time. He looked softer, wearing his hair longer. More pliable. Less brittle… less apt to break at the slightest jostle.

And it fit the suit he was wearing. It didn’t look like a costume on his frame, and if he was being honest, it no longer felt like one. It looked natural, and he looked… handsome. Hannibal had called him handsome. He’d never thought that of himself before.

He paced around the periphery of the room as Hannibal talked with the tailor, examining the cases and shelves that lined the walls. One was stacked with small bottles of amber liquid emblazoned with a gilt label that read “Knize Ten.” Cologne probably. Will hesitated, wondering if it was a breach of decorum to sample the goods in a place like this. He spied a small bottle out of its box, which was probably for sample. He twisted off the cap and lifted it to his nose, expecting to be overwhelmed with the smell of something that was undoubtedly more expensive than all the cheap whiskey he’d drunk in undergrad combined.

But he found the scent was not overpowering in the least. Strong, certainly, but clearly not something to cover up other smells or make a distracting impression. It felt less like cologne and more like… a suggestion of a place. An office with a polished wooden desk and a worn leather chair. And if he let himself, he might be drawn back into his mind palace, and then to the room specially devoted to Hannibal’s old office back in Baltimore. 

He could see it… colors muted in the cold, white sunlight that streamed from the open window, glinting off oddities and curiosities in every nook and cranny. The black chairs, facing each other as they always had. Empty like nests in late spring. The recollection smote upon the door of Will’s heart. While it was wonderful always having Hannibal be something tangible and unwavering in his life rather than a barely glimpsed afterimage in the corner of his vision, Will found himself strangely longing for that status quo. The mystery. The yearning to talk things out. The half formed desire...

The rustling of fabric drew Will’s attention back to Hannibal, and he watched as the attendant slipped the morning coat over Hannibal’s broad shoulders. It was gray, slightly darker in hue than Will’s suit, which was the color of tobacco smoke. This was the color of gun metal. Of a knight’s armor.

And it looked very much like armor, with its sharp angles and sweeping lines, and the faint sheen on the fabric. Hannibal’s suits had always looked like armor to Will. 

And now he had his own. He let the thought slide across his mind as he replaced the bottle of cologne on the shelf. Perhaps the costumish feel of these clothes need not always be something to be wrestled with, but something to be worked to one’s advantage.

As Hannibal discussed the sleeve length with the tailor, who managed to converse brightly despite a mouthful of pins, Will just took in the sight. They might have been in another time. Other people altogether. All the horrors of their past were so distant… washed out by the afternoon sun as it caught the aged dust in the air of the decades-old shop. Suddenly, the only thing that felt real was the space between them. And all Will wanted to do was go straight home and peel Hannibal down to his skin. Or perhaps just open him up enough to get at what was needful...

Hannibal must have felt his gaze because he turned, catching his eyes for a breath before letting an easy smile play across his face. But something more lurked behind the expression. There was a warmth in his pit-dark eyes that made something deep in Will’s chest ache.

“Will I do?” he asked, turning to let Will get a good look.

Will swallowed hard and nodded, hands convulsing idly at his sides. He itched to touch. “I… um… I get why you like coats like that.” He stammered, immediately grateful that apparently no one in the shop spoke English. “Makes you look… elegant.”

Hannibal’s smile parted to show his even white teeth. He held Will’s gaze for a moment before turning to the tailor who stood patiently at his elbow. He shed the coat into his waiting hands and the two of them headed off downstairs. “I’ll be returning to pick it up after the opera. The sleeves needed to be taken in just a bit.” 

Will nodded dumbly as they descended the last few stairs. Just before they got to the door, Hannibal paused to look into one of the antique cases that lined the walls of the main entrance. He cocked his head this way and that before calling to the attendant.

“What is it?” Will asked, looking about in the case for what had drawn Hannibal’s scrutinizing eye. It was a display for accessories such as tie clips and pocket squares. Nothing in particular stood out to him.

Hannibal appeared to ignore him as the attendant unlocked the case and pulled a small velvet box from the back row of the bottom shelf. Hannibal took it as they exchanged a few words of German. Then he held it up in a shaft of white sunlight and showed Will a pair of beautiful silver, or more likely platinum, cufflinks. Each was set with a flat black stone that shimmered to deep, iridescent blue when the light caught it just right. Hannibal spoke a few words that sent the attendant scurrying to his post, and then proceeded to liberate the cufflinks from the box. He took Will’s wrist and began removing the white gold cufflinks that adorned his sleeves.

Will had trouble unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth as Hannibal pushed the new cufflinks through the starched cuffs of his shirt. “What happened to the only color being my eyes?”

Hannibal gave him a smile that was nearer to a smirk, though his eyes remained serious and focused as he set Will’s shirt and jacket to rights. “These black opals alone probably cost five hundred euros each. They are exceptionally rare. Especially ones as beautiful as these. They could be set into a woman’s necklace as a centerpiece to an entire ensemble. And yet for you they are only a lens. A focusing mirror. Scratch your cheek. Card a hand through your hair. They catch the light just right, and your eyes will set a room on fire.”

Will’s face felt hot again, for reasons that had nothing to do with the summer sun pouring directly in the window. “I don’t know what to say.”

Hannibal took pity on him and leaned down to kiss him. “Come. As much as I want to take you home and innumerate your many stunning physical qualities as I undress you in our bed, it seems a shame to come all this way with you looking as you do and not let at least someone else appreciate you.”

“As… as long as you’re looking, too.” Will replied, his voice gone breathless and soft.

***

That night after dinner, Will stayed behind in the kitchen to do the dishes. Usually Hannibal offered to help, or would at least stay nearby to continue their conversation from dinner, but he disappeared upstairs as soon as he’d finished his coffee. Will didn’t really mind. He passed the time with whistling a few bars from the overture of the earlier opera, accompanied by the hum of the nocturnal insects outside.

When the dishes were done, Will headed upstairs. He was fully expecting Hannibal to be curled up in bed reading. But instead he found him still in his dress clothes, minus his tie. And instead of his suit jacket, he was modeling his slate gray morning coat in the full length mirror. 

The intimacy of the sight arrested Will in the doorway. Hannibal frowned critically at his reflection in the intimate light of the lamps. He turned by increments this way and that, looking to see how the hem fell over his thighs, and how the seams sat across his shoulders. Every ounce of his formidable concentration was pinned to each detail. 

The long slope of the hem made him look even taller than normal, and even lacking the tie and waistcoat, he looked utterly exquisite. And Will could see what he had mentioned earlier about suits being a frame for the artwork that was the wearer. Hannibal would always be a living piece of art. Severe. Reserved. Breathtaking. Like a stained glass window in a gothic cathedral. 

After a moment, Hannibal caught sight of Will’s staring reflection in the mirror and smiled at him without turning around. Will went to him, as if pulled, and raised up on his tip toes to prop his chin on his shoulder. Hannibal’s arms covered his as they encircled his waist. Even through the cool, contained exterior, Will could feel the heat of his body. Will sometimes forgot that human blood pumped through his veins. Especially when he was dressed like this.

“How do you like it?” Will murmured, rubbing his cheek on the smooth material.

“Knize is wonderfully consistent.” he remarked looking down at himself and brushing one hand down a lapel. “I would not be able to tell the difference between the fit of my old coat and this one. But I did choose a different color this time.”

“What color was the old one?”

“Black. Very traditional, but I found myself with precious few occasions to wear it.” Hannibal said, leaning his head against Will’s. “It looked very severe for daytime wear.”

“You always look severe.” Will pointed out. 

“And so I don’t need any help from my wardrobe.”

Will’s mouth pulled in a smile as he regarded their reflections. What a pair they were. Hannibal resplendent and pristine as always, with his scruffy, barefoot companion clad only in a tee shirt and jeans.

“Do you like the coat?” Hannibal asked him.

Will nodded, snugging his arms tighter around Hannibal’s waist. “It suits you. Very old world.”

“Did you just call me old fashioned, Will?” Hannibal chided.

“I think I called you a classical beauty.”

Hannibal smiled then, one of his rare smiles that bared his teeth. “That I can accept.” he said before turning and giving Will a quick kiss on the lips.

The moment hung there between them as they regarded each other. They had both meant to pull away, but their omnipresent gravity pulled them back together. Will cupped Hannibal’s jaw, just above his starched open collar and kissed him again. At first it was still soft and sweet, but he moaned into Hannibal’s mouth as his bottom lip caught between Hannibal’s teeth.

Hannibal turned to face him fully, threading his hands into his hair and feeling Will melt against him in response. Will moved to mouth along his jawline as he whispered, “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.” Hannibal answered earnestly.

“It’s not as earth shattering as I’m sure you’ll want it to be.”

“All the same.” His voice was muffled as he kissed Will’s hair.

“I want to suck your cock while you’re dressed like this.” Will breathed the words against the bare skin of his throat as his hands made their way under the morning coat to clutch at his back.

He felt Hannibal smile against his skin as he nipped at the shell of his ear. “The desire to debauch the immaculate is quite a well traveled road, Will.”

Will snorted, swiveling his hips to rub across the growing bulge in Hannibal’s suit pants. “I said it wasn’t earth shattering. And that’s not a “no.” That’s a challenge.”

“Yes, I suppose it was.” Hannibal replied, his mouth quirked with amusement. “This fantasy is not new, I take it?”

“Have you ever looked at yourself in a mirror before now?” Will took a moment to press an open mouthed kiss into the hollow of Hannibal’s exposed throat. “Of course it’s not new.”

“And the fantasy doesn’t end with my cock between your teeth.” Hannibal’s voice roughened as he felt Will begin to cling to him. Will just shook his head, feeling the smooth material of the morning coat rasping against his stubble. “Am I to guess what you want?”

“You could. Or…” Will felt the air change around him, becoming charged as if lightning might strike. “Or you could do what you want.” he said, his voice reduced to a lustful whisper.

Hannibal pouted his exquisite lips as he made a show of getting lost in thought. “I’m sure I could come up with something.” he replied with blithe casualness.

In response, Will unceremoniously dropped to his knees between Hannibal’s legs, hands already working at his belt buckle. He eagerly mouthed around on the front of his pants as he worked, darkening the material and earning himself a chuckle from Hannibal.

“Last time Jack Crawford caught up to me in Europe, it was, among other things, my taste in fine wine and food that gave me away. This time, I fear it will be the dry cleaning bill.” 

Will cut him a wicked smile as he slid the zipper open and his hand disappeared inside Hannibal’s underwear. He didn’t hesitate once his cock was free from his clothing. Will sucked down his thickening length with practiced ease, making Hannibal give an involuntary little thrust as his hands wound tightly into Will’s hair. He dragged him off, twisting his face upwards. “Don’t try to make me come.” he whispered roughly. “Just get me ready for you. For what I’m going to do to you.”

Will made a pitifully needy sound somewhere down in his chest, but he obliged, his mind reeling with all sorts of half formed, filthy images of himself spread out under Hannibal’s attention. He licked him root to tip, gathering and savoring the bead of precome that was sliding down the head. Then he licked up Hannibal’s shaft again, feeling his length pulse and twitch as he laved the flat of his tongue against the throbbing vein on the underside. All the while he made a show of being ever so careful to keep any mess off of Hannibal’s wardrobe.

When Hannibal was aching and rock hard, he eased his lips over the head, reveling in the velvety feel of his skin on his lips. He cupped Hannibal’s ass and slid his lips slowly down his shaft, his own cock jumping unexpectedly at the feel of the satin lining of the morning coat sliding over his arms. Will didn’t suck this time. Just slid Hannibal’s cock between his lips and over his tongue, keeping his mouth as soft and wet as he could manage. Above him Hannibal’s breathing quickened and shallowed as his hands convulsed where they were twined around Will’s dark hair.

Will relaxed into the touch without the slightest restraint, letting his awareness sink into every physical sensation. The bite of the hardwood floor against his knees. The whisper of the morning coat over his hands as they kneaded the soft flesh of Hannibal’s ass. The smell of his skin, clean from the shower with the musky undertone of sex. Then he looked up to see Hannibal gazing down at him, his predatory eyes half-lidded as he watched Will work. He fought back a smile as he dragged the tip of his tongue up the vein making Hannibal give a deep moan and drag him to his feet by his hair.

“Strip.” he said simply before stealing a kiss from Will’s swollen lips.

Will shivered at the instruction as if he were already naked, but began shedding his clothes immediately. But he made it all to clear by his stance and the smirk on his face that he was in no hurry, unless Hannibal forced his hand. Hannibal was patient as always as he watched Will make his attempts at manipulation. When an outright strip tease didn’t work, Will simply crowded himself up against Hannibal, pressing his naked body to his pristine clothes and making their flushed cocks rub together with delicious friction.

“You’re impatient.” Hannibal remarked between kisses.

“You’re the one who nearly came down my throat the instant my lips touched your cock.” Will replied, licking his lips for emphasis. “Sure you don’t want me to just suck you off now?”

“Quite sure.” Hannibal replied crisply as he pressed Will back down onto the bed. He pulled the jar of lube from the dresser drawer as Will arranged himself on the pillows, his cock laying in a thickening line in the soft curve of his hip.

“You’re going to mess up your suit.” Will teased. “And your new coat. Weren’t you just complaining about dry cleaning bills?”

“So presumptive.” Hannibal chastened as he liberally coated three fingers. “There’s a lot I can do to completely wreck you without needing to muss my clothes.”

Will swallowed at that, his pupils widening as his imagination jumped to a gallop.

“Spread your legs, Will.” Hannibal told him gently. 

He obeyed, drawing up his knees and trying not to think about how wonderfully exposed he was while Hannibal was still more or less put together. It was such a mirror of their earlier time together. Will had been raw… a wound left open to the air. Hannibal had been wrapped in his coolness. His control. Meant to be a balm to the scalding heat of Will’s mind.

Hannibal knelt on the bed beside Will as his slick fingers began circling his hole, moving ever so slowly, not so much with care as with a certain pleasured and calculated cruelty. They engaged in sex often enough that much elaborate preparation was hardly necessary, which led Will to believe Hannibal was planning to draw this out mercilessly. Just the thought made him make a pitiful little sound even before Hannibal had penetrated him.

“It occurs to me,” Hannibal said with infuriating calmness “I have not taken the opportunity to bring you to climax in this manner.” Will gratified him with a strangled breath that caught on his ribs. “It certainly would keep me from needing to have my suit cleaned. And you will be a wonderfully flushed and sticky mess long before I actually allow you to come.”

As his index finger breached his body, Will keened and arched up off the bed, hands scrabbling for purchase on the morning coat he was still wearing. Part of him wanted to twist and wrinkle it in his grip. Ruin it as he was about to be ruined. And part of him just needed to hold on.

He took the first digit easily, and the second almost more so, as if his body itself were begging for more. Hannibal curled his fingers, expertly finding the soft bulge of Will’s prostate and beginning to make tiny little circles around the edges. The noise that tore itself from Will’s throat was utterly filthy and only served to goad Hannibal’s patience. He wanted this to last. He wanted Will to fall apart slowly so he could watch.

“Wh-... what are you doing?” he whined, twisting on the sheets. “God, I’m ready just fuck me already. I know you want to.”

Hannibal snorted. “Oh most assuredly, I do. But not until you’ve come.” he leaned down and breathed the words against his ear, his mouth so close that Will could feel his teeth. “Not until you’ve come, and you’re so sensitive and overwhelmed you can’t do anything but lie there and moan with your legs spread while I fuck you.”

Something about the way Hannibal’s accent formed the word “fuck” so crisply had always driven Will mad with desire, and only served to goad the fire that burned low in his belly. The soft slide of his now three fingers was all Will can think about. He wanted to move. To thrust. To get more friction and more sensation and just… More. But Hannibal was frustratingly insistent in his patience.

It was all making Will’s head spin a little. How naked he was, and unkempt with his sweat-dampened hair plastered to his face and neck, and his cock, bereft of any touch, sticking to his stomach. And how much decorum Hannibal still managed to have, even with his pants unzipped and his tie gone. He still looked like something out of myth.

Will clutched tightly at the lapels of the morning coat, pulling Hannibal down for a searing kiss. For a split second he thought Hannibal was going to deny him, but he was only bending down in such as way as to not get sweat on his clothes. He licked into Will’s mouth, fingers mirroring the movement of his tongue. 

“Hannibal.” Will whispered, his lips barely able to form the shadow of his name. Only a few more curls against his prostate and Will was coming, semen shooting in a white arc across his chest. 

Hannibal didn’t hesitate or wait for him to come down from the climax. He quickly, rubbed the extra lube over his length and pounced on top of Will. He thrust in with a single hard motion that made him nearly scream with overstimulated pleasure. The morning coat folded down around them, sheltering them both in the whispery material. It slid over Will’s fevered skin, inviting him to push his arms underneath and clutch Hannibal against him.

Hannibal fucked him hard, with teeth bared, seemingly uncaring for the state of his new coat. He cared only for the hot clutch of Will’s spasming body as Will pulled and clawed at his clothes, caught between the aftermath of his own orgasm and the oversensitive shock of the pounding Hannibal was giving him. It took barely a handful of thrusts before Hannibal’s body locked up and he was holding himself deep inside Will’s ass, spending every last ounce of his pent up desire in a brilliant flash of ecstasy.

“So I guess we will be caught because of dry cleaning bills after all.” Will remarked, still panting as Hannibal rolled onto his side to lie next to him.

“I was only joking.” Hannibal replied, wiping his hand on a tissue from the bedside table. “I take care of all my laundry myself. Even the dry cleaning.”

“Why am I not shocked.” Will had to try very hard not to laugh in the wake of his post orgasm euphoria.

“Then will you be shocked if I tell you I bought you another gift at Knize?”

“You mean you got me something in addition to the cufflinks that cost a grand?” Will asked, his eyebrows arching toward his hairline.

“More than that actually. That’s just the value I roughly estimated for the opals by themselves.” 

Will just shook his head in bewilderment, his voice still holding a relaxed and pleasured slur. “What else did you get me?”

“I noticed you were eyeing their cologne display, so I took the liberty of purchasing some of their toiletries for you. Their signature scent is famous the world over. Has been for almost a century, and with good reason in my opinion.”

Will did laugh then, passing a hand over his sweaty face. “You’ve finally made a move in the aftershave war.”

“Knize Ten seems to be an occupying force you might come to appreciate.”

“Well, you’re correct.” Will said, beaming at him. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“I have a feeling I will appreciate it more.” Hannibal said, burying his face in the crook of Will’s neck.

Will just laughed at that. A sated and joyful laugh that made warmth bloom in Hannibal’s chest as he pulled him closer, heedless of the mess they were making of the bed and his clothes.

“Come,” Hannibal said. “We are both in need of a shower, thanks to you.”

“Thanks to me? I just wanted to suck you off. You’re the one with elaborate plans involving sex in your morning coat.”

“I think we can both agree it wasn’t just my idea.”

“Agreed. And I promise not to make a habit of it.” Will replied with a mockingly magnanimous gesture. 

“Very well, but I refuse to make such promises about seducing you when you’re in your formal wear.” Hannibal confessed with a roguish smile.

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

There was a pause as Will grinned against his own thoughts.

“When is the next opera?”

***


End file.
